get in your car. slam the door tightly behind you. watch out for the little kids in the street and try not to kill them while backing out. drop the windows, pop in your favorite cd. drive. move your seat all the way back and scrunch down so that only your disembodied head shows over the rim of the window. grab a parliament out of the crappy soft pack you just bought and try to light it without taking your eyes off the road. and don’t burn yourself.



you’re reveling in this; the sunshine, the music, the slight buzz, the smell of life, the road whipping by. it doesn’t really matter what turns you take or what shapes you make, be it straight lines, loops or triangles, as long as you’re moving. but suddenly, you realize that you were supposed to be somewhere. somewhere over the rainbow, riding into the sunset, happily ever after, some shit like that. you were supposed to go there. you had a destination. the cell phone keeps ringing and you pick up and all you can hear is everybody asking, “where are you going? where are you going?!?” you toss the phone out the window.



in a mild panic, you start to look for road signs, fellow travelers, death defying bunnies, anything to place where you are. or where you’re supposed to be. you miss your phone. for a second you think that this is kind of cool, making your own path, following your own stars, creating something that is strictly “yours”. then you realize that you’re supposed be at that certain spot, at that certain time. and you’re already late. better get moving.



is this what you feel like too?